Sam couldn't believe what she'd just seen. One minute she was driving
behind Jack, smiling because Jaffer's head was sticking out the passenger
window and his big ears were flapping in the breeze, and the next minute a
huge Buick had come out of nowhere, ran the stoplight and had slammed into
the driver's side of Jack's truck. Carter had slammed on her brakes, and
just barely missed hitting the back end of the Buick, which had hit
O'Neill's truck so hard that it had pushed it almost fifteen feet straight
sideways.
The intersection was in chaos, and Sam had her cell phone in her hand, calling 911 even as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of her car. Other cars were stopped, as well. No one could get past the accident scene, anyways, since there were scattered auto parts all over, but that wasn't what had Sam worried. She gave the dispatcher the intersection and number of vehicles involved, then hung up as she headed for Jack's mangled truck, fearing the worst.
The driver's side of Jack's truck was caved in, and there was no way he hadn't been hurt, Sam knew it even as she went to try and see. The side window was shattered and missing, and the windshield had broken and then shattered as well.
"Jack?"
There was no response, and Sam couldn't get to the driver's side of the truck. The Buick was still in the way, the driver of the car slumped over his steering wheel and not moving. Sam left him to the other folks that had converged, instead pushing her way around the truck and going to the passenger door. Her hand on the metal latch, she looked into the window, and gave a worried cry.
Jack had tied the chewed up ends of the seatbelt together and had tried to buckle himself in when he'd left his house. In a head on collision it might have been sturdy enough. As it was, though, the tied ends had given way on contact, and he'd been thrown sideways by the impact. He'd been tossed against Jaffer, who in turn had been crushed against the passenger door, and both dog and owner were bleeding and still. Covered with glass shards and fragments, Sam couldn't see if they were breathing or not, and the damned door wouldn't open when she tugged on it. She could see that Jack had a bloody gash on his head that looked like it might have been caused by having the side window hit him, but she couldn't even guess at what other injuries he might have had.
"Jack!"
He didn't move. Didn't even twitch. Sam could hear sirens in the distance. She reached in the window, and ran her hand carefully along Jaffer's side, since he was the only one she could reach, but the black lab didn't move, either.
"Don't touch him," a man said from behind Carter. "The cops are coming."
She nodded, knowing that she shouldn't do anything, since moving either of them could injure them further, but it was so hard to see them both lying so still, blood trickling onto the tan leather seat in a slow cascade of crimson.
"They're bleeding."
The man nodded, and pulled off the white t-shirt he was wearing and handed it her, and Carter reached through the window once more – this time actually jumping up and leaning through it – and stretched over the seat and pressed it against the gash on the side of Jack's forehead.
"Careful," the man warned her, seeing all the shattered glass.
"The door's stuck."
Then help was there, and Sam felt someone pulling on her to get her out of the window. She turned and saw a police officer tugging on her, and she pushed herself back from Jack reluctantly and allowed the officer to pull her back from the door.
"Do you know who he is?" The officer asked Sam as he tried tugging on the door to open it.
"Colonel Jack O'Neill." Sam answered, reaching out to help him try and open the door. It still wasn't giving way.
"What happened?" Another officer asked both Sam and the man that was now standing there shirtless. A fire truck was pulling up, the sirens wailing and Sam heard a whine from the cab of Jack's truck.
"Jaffer!"
"Who's Jaffer?" The first officer asked. He'd abandoned trying the door and was trying to get through the window. He was hampered by his gun belt and bullet proof vest, though, and wasn't able to get in. "Damn it."
"The dog."
The officer nodded, and tried to open the door again, and was joined by a couple of firemen with a tool that had an axe on one side of the head, and a pry bar on the other.
"Move."
The police officer moved to stand next to Sam, who was watching intently, and the fireman with the pry bar got the hooked end into the seam of the door, and wrenched it open. Jaffer made a squeal of pain that tore at Sam's heart, and she lunged forward without realizing it to try and get to him before they hurt him any more. He was Jack's baby, and it was automatic for Sam to want to help him when Jack himself wasn't able to do it.
"Easy, miss." The police officer grabbed her and held her back as one of the firemen scooped the howling black lab up into gentle arms and carried him away from the truck, leaving the area free for the rest of the firemen – and the now arriving paramedics – to take care of Jack.
Sam was torn between staying and watching them clear Jack from the truck and following the fireman who was holding Jaffer.
The decision was taken away from her. Carter and the shirtless man were both pushed roughly to the side as paramedics and firemen brought in equipment and swarmed around the cab of the truck – and the front end of the Buick that had hit Jack in the first place. She couldn't see anything of what was going on in the truck over all the men and women there, so Sam followed the sound of Jaffer's cries and found the lab being laid out on the hood of the nearest police car by the fireman that had carried him there.
"Is he all right?"
"I'm not a vet, ma'am."
Jaffer looked terrible. The glossy black coat that was just losing the puppy fuzziness was caked with blood, and there were all sorts of scratches that Sam could see. Worse, his front left leg was sticking out at an odd angle that made Sam certain it was broken. A suspicion that was almost immediately confirmed when the fireman reached out and touched it and Jaffer yelped in such misery that the man jerked his hand back.
"He's in bad shape."
Sam wasn't aware she was crying until the man with no shirt handed her his handkerchief and she looked at it in confusion. She wiped her eyes, ashamed. She didn't have time to cry! She had to make some calls. She needed Janet. Jack needed Janet. And she needed Daniel, and Teal'c, and she wanted Jack! God, what if... no! she wouldn't think that.
Her gaze went to the cab of the truck, which was completely covered by firemen and paramedics, now, all of them shouting orders and working furiously to free O'Neill from the mangled remains of his truck.
The intersection was in chaos, and Sam had her cell phone in her hand, calling 911 even as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of her car. Other cars were stopped, as well. No one could get past the accident scene, anyways, since there were scattered auto parts all over, but that wasn't what had Sam worried. She gave the dispatcher the intersection and number of vehicles involved, then hung up as she headed for Jack's mangled truck, fearing the worst.
The driver's side of Jack's truck was caved in, and there was no way he hadn't been hurt, Sam knew it even as she went to try and see. The side window was shattered and missing, and the windshield had broken and then shattered as well.
"Jack?"
There was no response, and Sam couldn't get to the driver's side of the truck. The Buick was still in the way, the driver of the car slumped over his steering wheel and not moving. Sam left him to the other folks that had converged, instead pushing her way around the truck and going to the passenger door. Her hand on the metal latch, she looked into the window, and gave a worried cry.
Jack had tied the chewed up ends of the seatbelt together and had tried to buckle himself in when he'd left his house. In a head on collision it might have been sturdy enough. As it was, though, the tied ends had given way on contact, and he'd been thrown sideways by the impact. He'd been tossed against Jaffer, who in turn had been crushed against the passenger door, and both dog and owner were bleeding and still. Covered with glass shards and fragments, Sam couldn't see if they were breathing or not, and the damned door wouldn't open when she tugged on it. She could see that Jack had a bloody gash on his head that looked like it might have been caused by having the side window hit him, but she couldn't even guess at what other injuries he might have had.
"Jack!"
He didn't move. Didn't even twitch. Sam could hear sirens in the distance. She reached in the window, and ran her hand carefully along Jaffer's side, since he was the only one she could reach, but the black lab didn't move, either.
"Don't touch him," a man said from behind Carter. "The cops are coming."
She nodded, knowing that she shouldn't do anything, since moving either of them could injure them further, but it was so hard to see them both lying so still, blood trickling onto the tan leather seat in a slow cascade of crimson.
"They're bleeding."
The man nodded, and pulled off the white t-shirt he was wearing and handed it her, and Carter reached through the window once more – this time actually jumping up and leaning through it – and stretched over the seat and pressed it against the gash on the side of Jack's forehead.
"Careful," the man warned her, seeing all the shattered glass.
"The door's stuck."
Then help was there, and Sam felt someone pulling on her to get her out of the window. She turned and saw a police officer tugging on her, and she pushed herself back from Jack reluctantly and allowed the officer to pull her back from the door.
"Do you know who he is?" The officer asked Sam as he tried tugging on the door to open it.
"Colonel Jack O'Neill." Sam answered, reaching out to help him try and open the door. It still wasn't giving way.
"What happened?" Another officer asked both Sam and the man that was now standing there shirtless. A fire truck was pulling up, the sirens wailing and Sam heard a whine from the cab of Jack's truck.
"Jaffer!"
"Who's Jaffer?" The first officer asked. He'd abandoned trying the door and was trying to get through the window. He was hampered by his gun belt and bullet proof vest, though, and wasn't able to get in. "Damn it."
"The dog."
The officer nodded, and tried to open the door again, and was joined by a couple of firemen with a tool that had an axe on one side of the head, and a pry bar on the other.
"Move."
The police officer moved to stand next to Sam, who was watching intently, and the fireman with the pry bar got the hooked end into the seam of the door, and wrenched it open. Jaffer made a squeal of pain that tore at Sam's heart, and she lunged forward without realizing it to try and get to him before they hurt him any more. He was Jack's baby, and it was automatic for Sam to want to help him when Jack himself wasn't able to do it.
"Easy, miss." The police officer grabbed her and held her back as one of the firemen scooped the howling black lab up into gentle arms and carried him away from the truck, leaving the area free for the rest of the firemen – and the now arriving paramedics – to take care of Jack.
Sam was torn between staying and watching them clear Jack from the truck and following the fireman who was holding Jaffer.
The decision was taken away from her. Carter and the shirtless man were both pushed roughly to the side as paramedics and firemen brought in equipment and swarmed around the cab of the truck – and the front end of the Buick that had hit Jack in the first place. She couldn't see anything of what was going on in the truck over all the men and women there, so Sam followed the sound of Jaffer's cries and found the lab being laid out on the hood of the nearest police car by the fireman that had carried him there.
"Is he all right?"
"I'm not a vet, ma'am."
Jaffer looked terrible. The glossy black coat that was just losing the puppy fuzziness was caked with blood, and there were all sorts of scratches that Sam could see. Worse, his front left leg was sticking out at an odd angle that made Sam certain it was broken. A suspicion that was almost immediately confirmed when the fireman reached out and touched it and Jaffer yelped in such misery that the man jerked his hand back.
"He's in bad shape."
Sam wasn't aware she was crying until the man with no shirt handed her his handkerchief and she looked at it in confusion. She wiped her eyes, ashamed. She didn't have time to cry! She had to make some calls. She needed Janet. Jack needed Janet. And she needed Daniel, and Teal'c, and she wanted Jack! God, what if... no! she wouldn't think that.
Her gaze went to the cab of the truck, which was completely covered by firemen and paramedics, now, all of them shouting orders and working furiously to free O'Neill from the mangled remains of his truck.